


Never Trust A Happy Song

by skywardPeregrine



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Sadstuck, deceptively happy beginning, written at 1:00am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywardPeregrine/pseuds/skywardPeregrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being in love doesn't guarantee you a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Trust A Happy Song

**Author's Note:**

> this is awful omg

Your name is John Egbert, and you are eight years old. Today is your first day of school, and you are really excited! You’ve never been to public school. Your dad homeschooled you up until now. You hope you’ll make lots of new friends. You wolf your breakfast, pausing only to smile at your dad when he tells you not to eat so fast, and that your food won’t run away from you. When the school bus arrives, you skip out the door and up to the vehicle. The doors open, and you step in. 

It surprises you to see, not bright and happy children, eager to go to school, but sullen and unfriendly-looking kids, and you start to reconsider. You greet the bus driver with a cheerful hello that she doesn’t return, and turn your attention to finding a seat, still not discouraged by any of this.

You hear snickers as you walk down the aisle, your Ghostbusters lunch box clutched in both hands, and then suddenly you trip and fall on your face in front of everyone. The kid who tripped you laughs out loud, and you feel tears sting your eyes as you lay there, too stunned and upset to sit up. The bus driver appears to be unaware of what happened and starts the bus.  
“Hey, shithead, why don’t ya pick on someone yer own size?” A pair of shoes has come into your field of vision. You glance up at the kid, shocked. You are pretty sure he just said a bad word. And defended you. He…is the strangest-looking person you’ve ever seen. His blonde hair frames a face mostly hidden by weird, pointy sunglasses that look too big to be allowed, and his nose is heavily freckled. He sounds weird, too, like someone out of a movie. One of the ones with cowboys and gunfights.

He leans down and offers you a hand, which you stare at for a few seconds before taking. Meanwhile the kid who tripped you is gawking at the boy, seemingly thunderstruck. “I…who asked you?” he managed when he’s found his voice.

The blonde kid ignores him and focuses on you. “Th’ name’s Dave. Dave Strider.” His name doesn’t seem like a name a real person would have, either, and you are starting to get the impression that he’s not real at all. You manage to squeak, “E-Egbert…John Egbert!”

Dave smiles, but only with one side of his mouth, and you think that might be called a smirk? You didn’t know anyone could even do that. “Ya wanna come sit with me, Egbert? These kids ain’t worth botherin’ with.” You stare at him for a moment, then reply a little too loudly, “O-okay! Um, I mean, if that’s really okay with you!!”

He smirks at you again, and you blush. So maybe it was a stupid question, but you were flustered!! Without a word, Dave strolls back to his seat with you trailing behind him. The rest of the day goes pretty smoothly. Everyone’s reluctant to mess with Dave, and by extension, you. You get the impression that his brother is a really tough guy. 

Dave himself is actually kind of a dork, you find out. Once he’s started talking, he’s perfectly happy to keep up a monologue of anything that happens to catch his fancy, without any input from you. Which is good, because you find it nearly impossible to keep up with him. When you do manage to do so, another thing you find is that he is very funny. By the time you get home, you want to stay friends with Dave forever.

\--

Your name is John Egbert, and you are thirteen years old. You are also not a homosexual, and you certainly do not like Dave Strider, no matter how many times Rose tries to use her psychoanalysis bullshit to try to get it out of you! 

Dave, of course, is not helping anything. He constantly makes jokes about wanting to “do the yaois” with you, and things like that. But he’s not serious! You don’t think he is, anyway. One day though, Dave is over your house, and you’ve just told him about your latest conversation with Rose (“Have you ever tried kissing a male? Perhaps you would have a better idea of your sexuality if you experimented a little, John.” “Rose, no, I’ve told you, I’m definitely not gay.”), and he has an odd look on his face. At least, you think he has an odd look, because he wears his shades all the time and tries to keep his face as expressionless as possible, which bugs the shit out of you because—

Dave leans forward and kisses you, completely derailing your train of thought. His mouth is warm on yours, and you are too stunned to do anything but let it happen. When he pulls away, you mouth wordlessly at him for several seconds before finding your voice. “D-Dave what?? I’m not gay, Dave, what was that for, were you joking???? Ha ha, you were joking, right?”

He looks paler than usual, and when he speaks his voice is slightly hoarse. “’Least now you can tell Rose y’know yer not gay ‘cause you kissed yer best friend and didn’t feel like doin’ the yaois with him.”  
You laugh, relieved, missing the brief look of pain that flashes across his features. “Yeah, haha, she can’t claim I’m a latent homosexual now! Thanks Dave.” You go on with your day as if nothing happened, and only after he’s gone home do you realize that Dave never actually answered when you asked whether the kiss was serious or not.

\--

Your name is John Egbert, you are eighteen years old, and you’ve just broken up with your girlfriend. After rescheduling yet another date in order to spend time with Dave, she finally had had enough. You stared at her in disbelief as she stated that she was breaking up with you because you spent far too much time with your best friend, and that for all anyone knew, you could be dating him instead. Then she walked out, leaving you to sit on the floor and stare blankly at the wall.

This is where Dave finds you, several hours later. It’s dark now, but you haven’t bothered to turn on the light or even wipe the tears from your cheeks. You’d made plans today, but you totally forgot about them. A knock on your apartment door jolts you out of your stupor enough so that you turn and stare at the door instead of the wall. But you make no move to get up.

When you don’t answer, Dave uses the extra key you had made for him to unlock the door, and pushes it open. “Whoa, dude, why are you sitting there in the dark?” You stand and take a few steps towards him. “Are you okay? …John—“ Whatever he was about to say is cut off as you hug him tightly, clutching him as though your life depends on it.

After a few seconds he returns your embrace, his chin dropping to rest on your head as his hand rubs your back. Suddenly you can’t hold back anymore, and the next moment you’re sobbing into his shoulder as he strokes your hair and makes shushing sounds.

When you’ve calmed down enough to be coherent, Dave takes you over to the couch, sits you down, and turns on the lights. That done, he sits next to you. “Stacie broke up with you.” It isn’t a question, but you nod anyway. He snorts. “You were always too good for her, anyway.” 

Before you can ask what he means, he’s turning on the TV and popping a video game into the console. Dave hands you a controller, and the strange statement is forgotten in a Super Smash Bros. marathon that lasts pretty much all night.

\--

Your name is John Egbert, you are twenty-three years old, and you are starting to think that maybe you were a bit too hasty when you said you weren’t a homosexual. You amend that thought. You aren’t gay, really. You still like girls. You just notice things about guys, like the way a guy’s pants fit, or the way his shirt drapes on his torso, or how Dave’s hair sticks up after he’s had a shower…And that’s the whole problem.

You share an apartment with Dave now, simply because your rents were both getting way too fucking expensive. Unfortunately, sharing an apartment with Dave means that it’s getting increasingly hard to ignore the feelings you’ve been having about him. 

A side-effect of these feelings is that you notice way more stuff about him than anyone else probably would, like how when he’s trying to explain why something is ironic to you, he leans forward slightly in his chair, and his eyebrows lower as he focuses. Or the way he does a slightly stupid-looking but also strangely endearing little hairflip whenever his hair gets in his eyes. Or the way his shirt rides up slightly, exposing just a thin strip of skin, whenever he reaches to get something from the top cabinet. Uh. You really didn’t mean to notice that.

Dave waves his hand in front of your face, and you realize you’ve been staring at the TV for the past five minutes without really seeing it. “Hello, Earth to Egbert.” You blink, and turn to look at him, smiling ruefully. “Sorry, Dave. I kinda spaced out there for a few minutes!” You can tell he’s rolling his eyes by the way he moves his head. “When are you ever not spacing out?”

You push your lower lip out in a mock pout. “Rude, Dave. Rude.” He smirks at you. “So, what were you thinking about that was so interesting, anyway?” You feel your face getting hot. “Uh…nothing!! I’m just, um, tired, yeah! I’m really tired, that’s all!!”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met. What’s so embarrassing that you can’t even tell me? Oh wait I bet you were thinking about your huge homo crush on me. Is that it, John? Do I make your kokoro go doki doki?”

You blush worse than ever. “Dave, no!!!! I wasn’t thinking about that at all!!! My huge homo crush on you is definitely not a thing that even exists! Just drop it okay????” There’s a long silence. At last he shakes his head and says, “God, you are so fucking dense.” Then he kisses you for the second time ever, and this time you actually kiss him back a little.

Dave leans back slightly and smirks at you. “You’re the worst kisser ever, I swear.” You let out a shaky laugh, and suddenly he seems concerned. “You’re okay, right? I didn’t like make you uncomfortable or some shit, did I? ‘Cause that’d suck.”

Your only response is to pull him into a tight hug and bury your face in his shoulder. He strokes your hair, and suddenly the future seems that much brighter.

\--

Your name is John Egbert, and you are twenty-eight years old. You’re driving to pick your boyfriend up from the night club where he DJ’s every week. Since you only have one car, and you both have jobs, it was decided that on your way to your job you would drop him off, and then later that night pick him up.

As you approach the club, you hear the faint blare of sirens. Praying it’s nothing to do with the club, you pick up speed a little. As soon as you get there, you leap out of the car and stop in your tracks, taking in the scene. The club is in flames, several fire engines parked outside as the firefighters work to subdue the blaze. The siren you heard was the last fire engine arriving.

You frantically scan the crowd of people that obviously had been evacuated from the night club, looking for the familiar blonde hair and shades. You don’t see him. He’s still inside. You race toward the flaming building, ignoring the cries of the startled fire fighters, and slip inside.

It’s stiflingly hot, and you can barely breathe because of the smoke, but you don’t care. Tripping over debris, sobbing and coughing as you search, a feeling of dread sweeping through you. You don’t have to look for long.  
He looks so small, lying there under a fallen beam. You stumble over to him and fall to your knees, pushing desperately at the heavy piece of wood. Finally it’s off of him. You scoop him up, bridal style, and carry him towards the exit. You know he’s gone, but you can’t bear to leave him.

Choking on the fumes, you stagger out of the building, and a fireman quickly helps you get a safe distance away. Your eyes are streaming, from grief or from the smoke, you aren’t sure. You sink to the ground, setting Dave’s body down carefully. You gaze at his still face, a sense of unreality stealing over you. This is a dream. A nightmare. Not happening. A burn on your arm throbs, jolting you. It’s real, all right. Nothing hurts in a dream. You feel tears fill your eyes again, and you rest your head against Dave’s unmoving chest as sobs rack your body.

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry


End file.
